Plotting Revenge
by rhead-a-holyc
Summary: I want to see that monster destroyed for once and for all. I want to make sure that whoever has the courage to defeat him has a better chance at it. I will be forgotten with history, but that doesn't matter. I'd die knowing I did my best.


**Quidditch League: Appleby Arrows **

**Chaser 3 **

**Pairing: Regulus/Barty Junior **

**Prompts: ****(poem) Love, What Is Love - by Robert Louis Stevenson; ****(word) history; ****(word) gruesome**

**Jigsaw Puzzle Challenge: ("****It's simple, isn't it?"; ****Medicinal;**** Sadness)**

* * *

_Love - what is love? A great and aching heart; _

_Wrung hands; and silence; and a long despair. _

_Life - what is life? Upon a moorland bare _

_To see love coming and see love depart. _

_\- "Love, What Is Love" by Robert Louis Stevenson _

* * *

You weren't sure when all the horror had begun. It was like a nightmare that had snuck up on you, not allowing you a chance to escape its crimson vice. You watched gruesome scenes, which would usually elicit a reaction from you, without emotion knowing that any emotion or sympathy would cast suspicion on you. You couldn't afford that, everything that would result of that was worth the suppression of your emotions.

You knew that he could see it from the way his jaw clenched. You could see he had been just as unprepared as you were for everything you now saw one a daily basis, when you had joined.

Barty had urged you to after he had made his mind. He hadn't known the reality. None of the Death Eaters had advertised the truth while they had talked at length about the amount of power and magic they had received.

You realise now that it was only power over the weak and helpless, a show of cowardice in truth. There was no turning back with the black mark that rested on your left forearm, tying you to a man that you no longer wish to be linked to.

You no longer want the blood that has become a near permanent fixture on your hands, you didn't want the memory of pained screams that kept you up every night as you attempted to escape them, you didn't want the memory of a random woman's face as she dies untimely. You wanted none of it, but you had all of it.

Your eyes search for Barty's face in the crowd around you, knowing that he was watching yours instead of the torture. It was a muggle woman today, a woman that you had dragged out of her house under the watchful gaze of the older Death Eaters. You had 'played' with her for a bit, killing her family before her eyes, before apparating her to where you now stood. She was your fault, her blood would remain on your hands.

It had been years since you had joined. The only person who still kept you here was Barty, and the disappointment your parents would feel for your cowardice if you disappeared. Your parents didn't matter all that much any more. They hadn't seen what you had seen, witnessed what you had witnessed, nor were they haunted by the nightmares you were. They knew nothing while they lived believing their son was following the path to power.

That was all they cared about. Power. They didn't care that it only came from fear and hatred.

You watched as Barty carefully made his way to you.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine."

You both knew you were lying but let it pass. There was no other answer that could be given while surrounded by listening ears.

"I don't know where the Dark Lord is. He usually enjoys being present for these kinds of things," Barty whispered, leaning in until you could feel his every breath on your neck. It was a slightly comforting thought, knowing that he was at your back. You had never grown to trust these Death Eaters to not curse you from behind for a laugh. Your cousin, Bellatrix, had taught you caution when you had been younger, and _she_ was here, after all.

"He asked if he could borrow Kreacher earlier, I assume he had some urgent business or the other," you whisper back, still facing forward like the soldier you were being trained to be.

You could imagine Barty's worried eyes as if he stood in front of you. His silence told you that the feeling he got from that fact was as bad as yours was. He feared for you more than he did himself. He cared and that was his biggest weakness, but that knowledge was almost medicinal, like taking a Pepper-Up potion for emotions, while you were forced to play the part of a torturer, or an emotionless observer.

A silence stretched between you. There was nothing to say, nothing they _could_ say without alerting anyone around them of their less loyal thoughts.

The Dark Lord arrived as it was nearly time for the amassed Death Eaters to depart. You watched as Kreacher followed him a little drowsily, looking as if he had been fighting. You felt a slight worry for him, but you couldn't allow that to show either. Kreacher moved to stand next to you after spotting you. You make no sign of recognition at his presence.

"Avada Kedevra."

The screaming and sobbing mass of what used to be a woman was finally silenced by words that were almost a whisper. The room echoed with her dying sounds in the moments afterwards.

"Dismissed."

The black robed witches and wizards dispersed without question, and you joined the thronging masses as they moved towards the apparation point within the manor. Barty followed close behind you before apparating you to some location you knew would be safe. Kreacher followed you, not wanting to return to Grimmauld Place too soon. You doubted _anyone_ actually liked being in that house.

"What did he make you do, Kreacher?" you ask gently.

Kreacher looked uncertain for a moment. Knowing the Dark Lord, he had probably asked Kreacher to remain silent over the happenings of the evening. You remembered telling Kreacher to follow all the Dark Lord's instructions, but you were Kreacher's master not the Dark Lord so you could change your commands if necessary. That was what you were doing now.

You watch as relief filled Kreacher's face as you relaxed your previous order. The words Kreacher spoke of the cave with the moving bodies made you tense with worry that was only worsened when Kreacher's body began to shake as he spoke of the dark magic he had felt left within the goblet.

"What are you going to do?" Barty asked once Kreacher had fallen silent.

"It's simple, isn't it? I don't really have a choice..."

You see Barty's eyes widen. "No… Regulus, no. You don't have to do it. We can find some other way."

You smile grimly. "Kreacher is the only one who knows where, and he'll only listen to me."

"Regulus, no. Don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to _me_," Barty begged. You could clearly see the fear in his eyes, but you had to do this. After everything you had done, you felt the need to do something that would help undo the damage.

Even if that something would cost you your life.

"Are you just going to throw away everything we have for this?" Barty's voice had turned harsh, his anger finally showing.

You look into his eyes. "If I must, yes. I want to see that monster destroyed for once and for all. I want to make sure that whoever has the courage to defeat him has a better chance at it. I will be forgotten with history, but that doesn't matter. I'd die knowing I did my best."

Barty sighed, knowing your mind had already been made up. "When?"

"As soon as possible. Tonight maybe."

His arms wrapped around you, comforting you for perhaps the last time. Your determination almost falters, but a whistle of wind reminds you, once again, of the screams that occupy your waking and sleeping mind.

"You're not giving me a lot of time..."

You barely notice as Kreacher pops out of the room.

"I'm sorry, but that's life. I know you'll make the most of it nevertheless."

The arms only held you tighter.


End file.
